Chris van Eeden facilitated by Sometimes
A note to a stranger is an exhibition that situates itself in the city of Cape Town. The exhibition seeks to introduce artworks into everyday life by placing them within the city. The subtle disturbance of everyday life through video work playing in a bar, a performance that starts and ends without a press release, an installation that moves through Cape Town’s leisure spaces and text-based artworks installed at bus stops is a way of introducing moments that have the ability to cause tiny ripples in the experience of everyday life. The exhibition is curated by Kabelo Malatsie for the Honours in Curatorship course at UCT, Michaelis School of Fine Art’s Centre for Curating the Archive.
Sometimes is a collaborative project between Marc Barben and Matthew King, who explore various means in using the web to facilitate exhibitions. For the project at hand, Sometimes invited artists to respond to the title of the exhibition in the form of text-based works. These were then translated from English into Xhosa and Afrikaans. The text was printed on A3 sized paper and pasted on bus stops across Cape Town CBD, Camps Bay and Sea Point. Participating artists are: Sebastian Borckenhagen, Geoffrey Brink, Chris van Eeden, Genna Gardini and Heather Jones. The use of translations allowed for a wider public reach. Cape Town’s erratic weather patterns obliged by forcing people to take shelter at various bus stops, thereby expanding the audience beyond only those who use public transport.
Chris van Eeden’s text installed at Kloof Street and The Castle bus stops, 2013
Below is Chris van Eeden’s installed text which has been translated into Xhosa and Afrikaans from English.
“Something has happened to me.
It came as an illness does, not like an ordinary certainty. It installed itself cunningly, little by little; I felt a little strange, a little awkward, and that was all.
The odd thing is that I am not at all prepared to consider myself insane, and indeed I can see quite clearly that I am not: all these changes concern objects.
So change has taken place in the course of the last few weeks. But where? It’s an abstract change which settles on nothing. If it isn’t I then it’s this room, this town, this nature.
Consequently a host of little metamorphoses accumulate in me without noticing it, and then one fine day, a positive revolution takes place.
I think it is I who has changed: that’s the simple solution, also the most unpleasant.
As a matter of fact there was a little incident, with nothing shameful or extraordinary about it.
I tried to pick up a piece of paper lying on the ground and didn’t succeed. That’s all, and it isn’t even an event. Yes, but to tell the truth it made a profound impression on me.
Objects ought not to touch, since they are not alive. You use them, you put them back in place, you live among them: they are useful, nothing more. But they touch me.
Things are bad. Things are very bad: I’ve got it, that filthy thing, the Nausea…
I am beginning to warm up again, to feel happy. This is nothing out of the ordinary as yet. It spreads out… at the bottom of our time; it’s made of wide, soft moments, which grow outwards at the edges, like an oil stain.
I know all that, but I know there is something else. Almost nothing. But I can no longer explain what I see. I have been wanting to speak to you for months, explain to you what I have been, what I have become…
There’s nothing much to say: I couldn’t manage to pick up a piece of paper, that’s all.”
“Ikhona into eyenzekileyo kum.
Ize njenge isigulo, hay’ njenge siqinisekiso esiqelekileyo. Izifake ngobuchule, kancinci kancinci; ndaziva ngendlela engaqelekanga, andaziva kakuhle, qha.
Eyonanto ingumnqa kukuba andizimeselanga kwaphela ukuzibona njengomntu ophambanayo, kwaye ndiyazi bona kakuhle ukuba andiphambani: lonke olutshintsho lunento yokwenza nezinto.
Ngoko ke utshintsho luthathe indawo kwii veki ezigqithileyo. Kodwa ngoba? Lutshitsho olungena sihlahla olungena siseko. Ukuba ayindimleligumbhi, yile dolophu, yile ndalo.
Ngoko lutshintsho lwezinto ezincinci eziye zakhula apha kum ndigaqaphelanga, kwaze ngaminazana ithile, kwakho uvukelo oluncamisileyo/oluhle.
Ndicinga ukuba ndim otshintshileyo: sisi sombululo esilula, esingathandekiyo kananjalo.
Kulonto kanye kuye kwakho isiganeko, esingenanto iphoxisayo okanye ingaqelekanga ngaso.
Ndizame ukuchola iphetshana ebeliwe phantsi andakwazi. Yilonto qha kwaye ayonto inkulu. Ewe, kodwa ukuba ndikuxelela inyani ishiye umfanekiso omangalisayo kum.
Izinto azimele kuchukumisa, kuba aziphili. Uyazisebenzisa, uzibeke endaweni yazo, uphile nazo: ziyadingeka, ayikho enye into engaphaya.
Kodwa mna ziyandichukumisa.
Izinto azintlanga. Izinto azintlanga kwaphela: Ndiyifumene, lanto imdaka, uku Gabha…
Ndiyafudumala kwakhona, ndiziva ndonwabile. Ayikabi yonto ingaqelekanga le okwangoku. Iyanaba… ngaphantsi kuma xesha ethu; yenziwe
ngezinto ezinabileyo, amathuba athambileyo, akhulela ngaphandle emacaleni okwechaphaza lamafutha.
Ndiya kwazi konke oku, kodwa ndiyayazi ukuba ikhona enye into. Engathi ayinto. Kodwa andisakwazi kuyicacisa lento ndiyibonayo. Zinyanga ezilinqela ndifuna ukuthetha nawe, ndikucacisele into endiyiyo, into endisuke ndayiyo…
Akhonto ingako yokuthetha: akhange ndikwazi ukuphakamisa iphetshana, yilonto nje qha.”
“Iets het met my gebeur.
Dit het soos enige siekte begin, nie soos ’n doodgewone sekerheid nie.Dit het op ’n slinkse wyse, so bietjie-bietjie, sy intrek kom neem; ek het so effens snaaks gevoel, ’n bietjie ongemaklik en dit was al.
Wat vreemd is, is dat ek glad nie bereid is om myself as kranksinnig te beskou nie en ek kan inderdaad heel duidelik sien dat dit nie die geval is nie: al hierdie veranderinge het met voorwerpe te make.
Verandering het in die loop van die afgelope paar weke op hierdie wyse plaasgevind.Maar waar? Dis ’n abstrakte verandering wat tot geen besluit kom nie.As dit nie ek is nie, dan is dit hierdie vertrek, hierdie dorp, hierdie natuur.
Talle klein metamorfoses hoop gevolglik in my op sonder dat ek dit agterkom en dan, op ’n goeie dag, vind daar ’n positiewe omwenteling plaas.
Ek dink dit is ek wat verander het: dis die eenvoudigste oplossing, maar ook die onaangenaamste.
Trouens, daar was ’n klein insidentjie met niks skandeliks of buitengewoons daaromtrent nie.
Ek het probeer om ’n stukkie papier wat op die grond lê op te tel en kon dit nie regkry nie. Dis maar al, en dis op sigself nie eens iets belangriks nie. Goed en wel, maar dit het ’n diepgaande indruk op my gemaak.
Voorwerpe is nie veronderstel om jou aan te raak nie – hulle is immers nie lewend nie. Jy gebruik hulle, sit elkeen terug op sy plek, jy leef tussen hulle: hulle is nuttig, niks meer nie.Maar hulle raak aan my.
Dinge is sleg. Dinge is baie sleg:ek het dit, daardie smerige ding, die Walging…
Ek begin om weer warm word, weer gelukkig te voel. Daar is nog niks buitengewoons hieraan nie. Dit versprei op die bodem van ons tyd; dit bestaan uit wye, sagte oomblikke wat van die kante af na buite versprei – soos ’n olievlek.
Ek weet dit alles, maar ek weet daar is iets anders.Byna niks.Maar ek kan nie meer verduidelik wat ek sien nie.Ek wou maande lank al graagmet jou gesels, verduidelik wat ek gesien het, wat ek geword het…
Daar is nie veel om te sê nie:Ek kon nie dit nie regkry om ’n stukkie papier op te tel nie, dis al.”
Chris van Eeden is currently in/conveniently based in Cape Town. He is not convinced by what appears to be going on. Consequently he’s entertaining some theories.